


a cut, a blow, an impact

by CaptainRivaini



Series: nobody mourns the wicked [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, Ladies of POI, dominic is still very much around and harper is a pain in his ass, harper 'i'm too pretty for this' rose, same universe but shaw is alive because i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 14:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3771916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainRivaini/pseuds/CaptainRivaini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No guns usually meant less of a chance of getting shot in the face, or the back or wherever else these goons that Thornhill had led her right to was getting ready to fire at. </p>
<p>Yeah, that was something Harper and Thornhill was going to have to talk about, the whole leading her into an ambush thing. It was getting old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a cut, a blow, an impact

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the http://ladiesofpoi.tumblr.com/ challenge, which is awesome btw, go check that out.
> 
> Prompt - Puncture
> 
> Harper is a babe and I'm too weak: the biography

**H** arper did not like guns.

Call her picky, but no guns meant less chance of getting shot in the face, or the back or wherever _else_ these goons that Thornhill had led her right to was getting ready to fire at. Yeah, that was something her and Thornhill was going to have to talk about, the whole leading her into an ambush thing.

In Thornhill’s defence, Harper tried to reason with herself as she stood in the alleyway that these gang members of Dominic’s had trapped her into, he had told her to pick up a gun on the way here. And yeah she hadn’t listened, ended up in this situation and well…

Had she mentioned that she didn’t like guns?

Because she really didn’t, and besides, who needed a gun when you had a smile?

“Fellas, let’s be _reasonable_ here.” Harper said as she watched one of the men blocking the alley look over at the smaller woman next to him, her hands shaking slightly and her aim wobbling all over the place. “Trespassing after being told to leave really does not deserve a shot in the head, right? We’re all adults here…”

‘Apart from that woman,’ Harper thought with a bitter pang in her chest, realizing her mistake at assuming the girl was over the age of 16. Her finger kept slipping over the gun’s safety, over and over and over.

Definitely not how you would use a SIG-Sauer P229R. Not that Harper knew or anything. Almost definitely not like she was actually picking up some things when Frankie opened her mouth to talk about guns, acting as if Harper actually gave a crap about things like that.

Speaking of Frankie…

Harper was near relieved when she felt the phone in her back pocket start to ring urgently, another cheesy song from the Dixie Chicks (thanks Frank, she’s going to possibly die with the last song coming from the _Dixie Chicks_ ) blaring from its speakers, struggling to cut the thick tension even with its sharp, shrill noise.

When Harper went to reach for it the sound of a gun clicking immediately made her withdraw, sighing in frustration.

“What, you think I’ve got a gun stashed here? These jeans are _tight_ , you’d know if I had…” And then, before either of these less than experienced idiots can do anything about it, her hand is in her back pocket and up in the air moments later. A clear gesture of surrender. “Hey, look! Nothing here but the phone and…”

Harper brought it to her ear, closing her eyes and thanking God and whoever the hell else her crazy mama said was out there, for watching over her today in making sure Dominic’s men weren’t all that bright without their leader with them.

“Stay put.” Thornhill tells her the moment the phone is to her ear, the strange tone always jarring and yet so comforting right now. “Asset is on their way. Stay put.”

“Tell Frankie I’m going to kick her ass,” she muttered, keeping eyes on both the two men on either side of the alley and the shaking girl with them to her right. Asset or no asset, Frankie could hardly stop a bullet.

“Frankie Wells is irrelevant.”

“Jesus, lighten up Mr T.”

Harper’s words seemed to let off a spiralling whirlwind of events that happened only a couple of seconds after, and true to her request, the world did indeed _lighten up_.

Headlights and the sound of a car engine revving startled Harper enough that she dropped her phone, her screen shattering into small shards on the asphalt underneath her feet. It went so slow that for half a moment Harper thought she would be able to catch it, but no that would be ridiculous, and besides that her shoulder had started to feel like it had just been stabbed with a needle – no time for dramatic catching of phones.

Harper swiftly moved to the realization that the girl she had been keeping her eyes on was now face first on the floor, clutching her knee and yelling in pain. The two men that had accompanied her were in the same position, though it took her a while to figure that one had ended up sprawled on the car’s hood that had been driven recklessly into the alleyway, teeth gritted and body tense.

A flash of yellow then, it caught her off guard and yet her acknowledgement of it far too late told Harper that she was going into shock. The one where you wanted to faint and throw up all at the same time, and holy crap she _hadn’t_ been shot before!

She wasn’t afraid of anything, she reminded herself, but when she saw that the jacket she had been wearing was now in tatters at the shoulder and blood was dripping down her arm? Okay, maybe that was a little scary.

“Shit Harps, didn’t I say wait a few…” said a voice directly beside her, the tone muted and drowsy like Harper was under the ocean and the hand just below her shoulder the anchor that weighed her down right to the seabed.

Harper tried to breathe in as best as she could, hand grasping onto Frankie’s and squeezing it tight, ignoring the clamminess of her hands in order to keep herself there. Red liquid heat ran down her wrist and tied them together, it made Harper feel dizzy and for her stomach to clamp and struggle against the discomfort there, desperately urging her to ease into a security that she did not feel.

She couldn’t remember much after that, mostly just Frankie’s hand in hers and her body being pressed against the bounty hunters and a snarl of ‘don’t come any further!’

“I like you protective, Frank,” Harper murmured with a smile because it was so much better being pinned against Frankie’s shoulder and a wall than that urge to roll her eyes back and faint. “Beats that time you almost shot me.”

A scuffle of heels and Frankie repeated her snarled threat. Harper can imagine the crease in her brow and the appearance of her teeth, sharp and pointed as her gaze.

The voice that answered sounded too much like a feminine version of Thornhill, and to be frank, Harper’s pretty sure it was what made her faint.

“Sorry to disturb the foreplay ladies, but I know a _great_ doctor who would just _love_ to help.”

* * *

**“ _O_** _w!_ ” With her eyes no longer feeling like they were going to roll into the back of her head, Harper had taken advantage to glare at the smaller woman cleaning the wound on her shoulder, ignoring the smirks she received from Frankie and their rescuer at the other side of her.

Frankie had thanked the taller woman, Root or whatever her name was, but Harper couldn’t find her tongue allowing itself to say the words. Maybe later when she didn’t feel as though the other woman, Shaw, was tearing into her shoulder like some crazy squirrel rather than patching it up like she had been assured.

“You want me to just shoot you? It’ll go faster than the rate we’re going at right now.” Harper’s surly doctor deadpans after a few more moments of Harper hissing obscenities under her breath.

“Sameen…” Root chided but the affection in her voice made it only seem flirtatious rather than genuine.

‘ _Great,’_ Harper thought, _‘get a room already.’_

She was just grateful that the Finch guy was here, at least his ‘Ms. Shaw, some tact _please_ ’ sounded sincerely perturbed about the small stack’s brusque, rough and tumble treatment of her. Harper’s mother had always said she should be handled with care after all, though she had followed that sentence with ‘because she’s like a bomb that’s about to go off’.

Though Harper had a slight inkling telling Shaw that would probably not get her very far.

When Harold asked her what she had been doing in Dominic’s territory, Harper had shrugged and refused to meet Frankie’s eyes. “Thornhill’s orders, his pretty persistent.” She said eventually and once again ignored Frankie’s scoff and roll of her eyes. “Especially at early hours of the morning, guy doesn’t know when a girl needs her beauty sleep.”

“Tell me about it,” Shaw muttered in an aside and Harper watched as Root’s mouth opened to speak before she realized her company and promptly closed it.

Harper bit her lip to stop herself from smirking.

They didn’t tell her much else after she had answered their questions about Thornhill and his requests, and so for the rest of the time Harper spent most of it gritting her teeth and scowling out of the window of the safe house that she had been situated in.

“Loser,” Frankie teased when she winced after Shaw had finished patching her up and left the room with Root and Harold.

Harper didn’t miss a beat. “Sleeping on the couch, babe.”

Frankie looked hurt for a split second before the glare that had been on her face at the mention of Thornhill returned, knocking Harper for six. She had always said that Frankie was going to give her permanent whiplash, wasn’t exactly a _lie_ considering today’s events either.

“Thornhill is going to get you killed you know?”

“Probably, but which one? Athena, Louisa _or_ …” Harper trailed off at seeing Frankie’s hard stare hadn’t budged one bit, sighing exaggeratedly. “Alright, not in the mood for jokes. I don’t know what you want me to say, being a con artist is hard work – Thornhill is a clever bastard that helps out. Win/win?”

Frankie’s glare didn’t budge but at least she moved it towards the freshly patched up shoulder and for that Harper was grateful, too spent to argue with the bounty hunter any longer.

“First ever gunshot wound?” Good, despite the glare Harper was relieved that Frankie at least didn’t _sound_ angry. Or at least she was putting in so much of her usual bluster that it didn’t show that much.

Harper frowned and she rolled her shoulder again with another wince. “I _told_ you that guns were lame.”

“Yeah, well, this lame gun,” Frankie said, pulling her weapon out of her holster with that defiant glint she always had in her eyes when she wanted to prove Harper wrong. “Saved your _ass_ back there.”

“Kind of sure it was a pretty brunette actually,” Harper replied, grinning so wide that she hardly felt the throbbing in her shoulder because of the distraction.

“You know if you wanted me to dye my hair brunette and speak to myself all you had to do was ask.” Frankie retorted before she swallowed deeply, looking around, left to right, to check if they were truly alone. “And besides…her appearance was kind of convenient. And you say you know this guy, Harold…”

“Appearances are deceiving and _everyone_ is a liar.” Harper interrupted with a click of her tongue. She had already rustled up some information by the small conversation she had had with Riley before about the work him, Harold and now these two women did. The way their operation ran, it was all pretty much easy to establish that there was a bigger picture, all Harper had to do was try and fit the puzzle pieces together. But…only if she cared to try.

Right now? She didn’t. She was just grateful that she had been patched up and could be on her way and wait the next move from Thornhill. Not that she was going to mention that to Frankie, but working alone always did suit her best.

“Come on,” she eventually said, gaining Frankie’s attention (unsettling Harper at the immediacy) and swinging her legs over the side of the table she had been settled down on. “Places to be, people to con out of their money.”

“One day I really _am_ going to have to bring you in for that bounty.” Frankie warned.

Harper allowed her dark, bold eyes to settle over the sharp pale of Frankie’s cheeks, her smile predatory and knowing. “Catch me if you can, Frank.”


End file.
